


Before the Storm

by TeyrianTimelord



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Infinity War, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, buckynat secret santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 21:36:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13303737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeyrianTimelord/pseuds/TeyrianTimelord
Summary: Wakanda is preparing for war. Natasha and Bucky find some time for themselves in the calm before the storm.My Buckynat Secret Santa 2017 present for StainedGlassDreams/Lostinastainedglassdaydream.





	Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StainedGlassDreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StainedGlassDreams/gifts).



> StainedGlassDream asked for "Bucky and Natasha preparing for the Wakandan fight" and "Bucky playing the piano," so I tried to throw them both into one fic. I hope you like it, dear!

_**Before The Storm** _

_**A Very Merry Buckynat Christmas for Lostinastainedglassdaydream** _

 

A piece of Natasha liked the calm before the storm. Though her rational brain knew it was only a palling herald of the death and destruction soon to come, the raw side of her soul enjoyed the peace. It was a primal serenity; a reminder that she was only mortal and that was worth savoring. She could breathe a little deeper, stand a little closer, drink a little more, because it might be the last opportunity ever. The calm before the storm was an excuse to let herself be a human instead of a monster.

 

Things had not been easy since the Sokovia Accords. After Tony disavowed her, Natasha found herself back in Russia just like after SHIELD fell. But this time she didn’t weep at her parents’ grave or look for solace in discovering the past. This time she finally did what she should have done so many decades earlier: tied up every loose end the Red Room ever left for her. Eliminated long time targets, destroyed final holdouts, hunted down anyone who had somehow survived and had anything to do with her training. It had been long past time time to end that chapter of her life once and for all, to finally close her ledger and destroy it; even if it meant shedding Natalia Romanova and briefly becoming Yelena Belova. She could stand to be someone else for a while, to let the red go. There would be a time and a place when Black Widow would be needed again, just not now. But when everything was finally said and done, she had no choice but to find the one last trace of her time in the Red Room; even if he was in the cryochamber of a Wakandan laboratory. 

 

Despite their last meeting, T’Challa welcomed her with open arms and all the grace befitting a king and a friend. Upon her arrival, he poured her a drink and asked for her whole side of the story, offering an explanation of his own and his offer of forgiveness to move forward together in the inevitable troubles soon to face them all. After the antics that had been the conflicting egos of the Avengers, his maturity and regality were a refreshing change of pace. She was allowed to lay low, to keep one eye on Bucky and the other out for Steve’s return. Sure enough, shit hit the fan when Thanos arrived with the Infinity Gauntlet, and suddenly Steve was back and Bucky was awake. She wanted to talk to them, to come to grips with everything that had happened and finally meet the new man that had once been the love of her life, but she knew that would be selfish. They had bigger things to worry about. 

 

So there she was, standing on the balcony of her room in T’Challa’s palace, triple checking all her weapons and enjoying the calm before the storm. Cap would be assembling the team any minute now to give a short but rousing speech before leading them off into battle against an alien force for the second time in a six years, but until then, the silence was all that mattered. At least, it did. But then something changed. From outside her window, she heard something; something that shouldn’t have been there. Light, musical notes on a distant piano playing...Christmas songs? In Wakanda? In May? Natasha should have ignored it and focused on getting ready for a war, but something wouldn’t let her. The music tugged at the back of her mind and wouldn’t let go. It just wasn’t right. Sighing, she turned from the balcony and out of her suite, following the music from where it faintly rung through the halls. Potentially her last day in the life and she was spending it chasing Christmas carols in dead of May. 

 

The sound led her through a long corridor and down a set of winding stairs leading to a large conservatory filled with instruments of all shapes and sizes. She knew the royal family was a generous patron of the arts, but even still it was the largest collection she had ever seen. Nearly every inch of wall was covered in something, from the most basic guitar to items she could not name. Some of the pieces had to be 1,000 years old to say the least. Though despite all the treasures, right in the center of the focus point of the room was a shimmering black grand piano facing away from the entrance, and deftly rolling his hands across the keys was none other than the former Winter Soldier. Though his back was to her, Natasha could see there was a grace she never knew he had in the way his fingers moved, as if they were a ballet of music all their own. His shoulders were slouched and heavy, full of concern and exhaustion, but all she could hear was holiday joy. It simultaneously lifted her spirit and broke her heart. In the face of almost certain death, he wanted one more reminder of Christmas.

 

“I didn’t know you could play,” she finally said when he stopped, and Bucky nearly lept out of his seat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

Back in their “prime” in their Red Room, nothing startled him. No one could sneak up on him. A fly couldn’t wand within 20 yards of him without catching his notice. But she knew the adjustment process was taking a toll on his nerves. She couldn’t help but resent that they had woken him up just to put him through all this again. 

 

“I just didn’t expect anyone to be listening,” he answered, regaining his composure in the blink of an eye. 

 

“It was beautiful,” Natasha managed to say in the most casual way possible. She was not built for small talk, especially not with him. Not as if they had never known each other.

 

He either did not notice her discomfort, or at least pretended not to.

 

“I took lessons for ten years when I was a kid. I wanted to see if I still remembered anything.” 

 

Natasha shifted her weight in her shoes.

 

“And how is the remembering going?” she asked.

 

“I remember you, if that’s what you mean.”

 

Saving face be damned, Nat had to take a physical step back. He remembered? This time, Bucky didn’t just pretend not to notice, and met her step back with one of this own, putting a enough length between them that they could size each other up, honestly and truly for the first time since she ran away without looking back, this time not worrying about how to fight each other or for their lives against anyone else. It was the kind of measuring that came with looking clearly through a new lens.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded, a little more harshly than she meant to.

 

His gaze left her and fixed on some point beyond her shoulder as he said, “I was hoping if I didn’t, you wouldn’t have to remember all the horrible things I did to you. You shouldn’t have to.” 

 

“Is that all it was to you? Horrible things?”

 

“You know that’s not what I meant. You were the only thing I had to keep me human, but that nearly got you killed. I haven’t forgiven myself for that and I don’t expect you to either.” 

 

Natasha paused to take a deep breath and pick her next words carefully. A million thoughts were flying around in her head and she couldn’t decide if she was relieved, furious, dejected, or something in between. She had to say something. It wouldn’t be right to let that thought be the last thought they carried with them into battle as they charged into the oncoming storm. If they died today. Trying to nail down the possibilities was like trying to reach into a cloud of mist and hold down a handful. _ I made my choice. You were my choice. I loved you so much. I just want you to be happy. Let it go. Kiss me like it’s my last day on earth. I forgive you for anything. None of it was your fault. None of it was your fault. None of it was your fault. _

 

She finally settled on, “I would love to hear you play more.” 

 

For a moment, she watched Bucky’s eyes flash with disappointment. He did not want the conversation to be over, but she had a sneaking suspicion he knew better than to push her. Natasha made a silent promise that if they lived through the afternoon, they would make things right. But it was only a moment, nonetheless. He slid back onto the piano bench and made room for her to sit next to him, on his right side so she could lean against his good arm. Natasha savored the slight trace of body heat she could feel through both their sleeves. That was the point of the calm before the storm, right?

 

“More Christmas music?” he asked softly, as if that might not be what she wanted to hear. 

 

“You choose.” 

 

Especially after growing up in Russia under the Soviet regime, Natasha was not the most well-versed in the genre, but as he began to play again she recognized the tune of “I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm.” His eyes were fixed on the keys, watching them with the analytical stare of a perfectionist crafting a masterpiece, as if one note gone wrong would be difference between life and death. But it wasn’t just stout determination, it was something else: passion. Once upon a time, this was something he loved, and he still remembered. 

They sat without saying a word until he finished the song, and then paused in silence for a few seconds more. Natasha opened her mouth to suggest that they join T’Challa and Steve to strategize, but before she could say anything leaned in and kissed her instead. He was light, gentle, barely touching her at all, but it was enough. 

 

“We should go,” she murmured against his mouth when he started to draw away. “But if we live through the day, I think we should finish this conversation.”

 

Bucky let out the very faintest ghost of a laugh. 

 

“Is that a promise?”

 

Natasha unabashedly smirked. 

 

“For you, nothing less.” 

  
  
  



End file.
